This is too tiny to even warrant a mention in the grand scheme of things.  But a black male teenager rang my doorbell this evening selling candy bars for the Second Chance Youth's something.  I am a middle aged white woman and my husband and dog were not home.

I actually rarely answer the door.  I had a break-in about 20 years ago and it has made me leery.  Plus the old "No Solicitors" thing as well.  But I steadily have gotten better and now it's just my mood that dictates whether I answer the door.  I have purchased magazine subscriptions on occasion from kids saying they need to win something or other for a scholarship, although I have stopped doing that because I think they are probably backed by some sort of christian school outfit and I also think kids shouldn't have to go door to door begging for scholarship money.  I have graciously accepted Jehovah's Witnesses literature while assuring them I am an atheist.  And I have tiptoed through the house until I figure whoever is ringing the doorbell is gone.  Whatever!

Beside the point, today I am feeling happy with my own space so I answered the door and there was this kid.  Selling name brand candy.  Looking somewhat miserable and sheepish about it, made a deprecating remark about bugging me.

I told him to come in while I went to get my checkbook and he did, left the door open.  I left the room to get my checkbook, the cat wandered out and I hollered "don't let the cat out!" so he shut the door a bit.

Wrote his check, chose my Baby Ruth bars, and sent him on his way.

Now this is where good old liberal guilt comes in, I am feeling pleased with myself for letting this kid in my house.  

Then I think...how does this kid know that when I left my room to get my checkbook that I wasn't leaving the room to get a gun to shoot him down?  Or to call the police (to be less hyperbolic)?

 That was some mutual trust of humanity, in a very small way.

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